


Behind the Scenes in the Basement

by writingfromdarkplaces



Series: Nothing Left to Break [2]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Fix-It, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 12:57:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7893484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingfromdarkplaces/pseuds/writingfromdarkplaces
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jake reveals the truth about his assignment in Dubai to Gibbs before he leaves.</p><p>Another semi-sequel to Sawdust and Consolation, but goes down a different path.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Behind the Scenes in the Basement

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Sawdust and Consolation](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7809037) by [writingfromdarkplaces](https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingfromdarkplaces/pseuds/writingfromdarkplaces). 



> So this is the product of this same strange need I have to change season thirteen, the show's own suggestion that there was an investigation going on into what happened in Dubai, and comments on Sawdust and Consolation.
> 
> There is a part of me that says it's a whole saga, but there's another part of me that says let it be done here. Either way, this is one explanation that almost follows through and allies with canon, and it will remain my personal headcanon, I think. Because I like this so much better than the way the show handled it. Troll and Viral seem so counter to what happened in Day in Court, and I still can't reconcile Gibbs not knowing or Jake doing what he did. Wishful thinking, and strange for me, but I have said before that I'm delusional, right?

* * *

“I think I have a problem.”

“You're standing in my basement with one very expensive bottle of booze,” Gibbs said, looking up from his work and picking up a different tool before starting to work again. “I'd say that you've got a problem.”

Malloy grimaced, setting his offering on the workbench. “Because I'm here or because I brought the bottle?”

Gibbs found himself smiling. He set down the tool, reaching for the cups and sliding one over to Malloy. “You're here. Let's start with that.”

Malloy filled his glass, studying it for a moment before he took a sip. Closing his eyes, he leaned back against the wall. “Did you ever have to do something for NCIS that you weren't comfortable with? Or maybe even the marines?”

Gibbs studied him. “The NSA ask you to do something you're not comfortable with?”

Malloy finished off his glass, refilling it and taking another sip before he drew in a breath, trying to control himself as he spoke. “I was approached not long after I gave you that drive. They said that I showed... initiative, and they wanted my help with another matter.”

“One that involved high level clearance and you shouldn't be talking about.”

Malloy nodded. “I shouldn't, but we're dealing in hypotheticals—mostly—and I... When this all goes wrong because it is going wrong, I... I need some way of minimizing the damage.”

“The hell are you talking about, Malloy? And don't go hypothetical. I want the real answer. I don't care what clearance it requires. If you're putting my people in danger, then you damn well better own up to it.”

“No one will get hurt. Not... physically, at least.”

“Explain yourself. Fast.”

Malloy emptied his glass again. “There is... a possible leak at the NSA. They... have a suspect, and they want information. Proof. I thought, when they asked me, that I could actually help, to be useful in an active way instead by writing legal documents no one wants to read. Maybe I even thought it would give me something in common with Ellie because we've been drifting apart. I... I don't know.”

Gibbs leaned back in his chair. “What do you know?”

“Their suspect... is a woman.”

Gibbs watched Malloy refill his glass. “And that bothers you? The chivalrous streak again? You can't believe a woman is responsible.”

“If only,” Malloy muttered. “That _would_ almost be easier. It's—Damn it. I'm not a chauvinist. I... Gibbs, this woman is... I thought she was a friend. I talked to her. About things I shouldn't have.”

“Your marriage.”

Malloy winced. “It was—I lost my temper, vented about something Ellie did. She offered... perspective. She seemed to be helping me, I didn't think she had an ulterior motive, but then a few weeks later, she was... flirting with me. I think I... I fumbled a bit. She surprised me. I don't think well on my feet.”

“Interesting justification.”

“Whatever I did or said, she took it as encouragement. And the people who suspect her... believe I can use that to get close to her and get them the proof they want.” Malloy went for the bottle again. “They told me if I broke it off, if I tried to tell her that it isn't what she thinks, that I will reveal their suspicions. She'll get away with it.”

Gibbs drank down a shot of his own. “They actually told you to cheat on your wife?”

“Not directly,” Malloy whispered. “They said play along, gain her trust, get more information. Then they said they were sending me on a clandestine assignment. She's got one, too. I already know it'll be in the same place. They didn't say it. She didn't. I just... know.”

“You're developing instincts. Not a bad habit to get into.”

Malloy shook his head. “I don't want them. I don't want to do this. I don't know of any good way out of it, either. How do I ignore a leak like this? The implications for national security, the idea that someone in her position at the NSA is behind it...”

“Not saying the job isn't important.”

“But I'd have to convincingly flirt with this woman if not... kiss her or...” Malloy put a hand to his mouth and then ran to the trashcan across the room. He lost his stomach, emptying it into the can. “Normally, I can hold my liquor.”

Gibbs snorted. “That's a little hard to believe at the moment.”

“Gibbs, I don't know what to do. If I go through with this, no matter what I do, I'll hurt Ellie. And I can't tell her about it. Not any of it. Not about the truth behind this assignment, not where I'm going. Not about the leak. Oh, god. I told you. I—I just meant to...”

“To get someone on your side for when the fallout happens.”

Malloy shook his head. “To make sure someone is there for Ellie when this goes wrong. Because it will go wrong. Either I am going to get myself killed trying to get information, or I will get it and lose everything in the process.”

“You don't have to sleep with her to get information from her.”

“No, I don't, and I don't plan on it going that far, but that's what I mean, Gibbs,” Malloy said, swallowing with a grimace. “She'll know when I try and stop it, and it will be all over. They'll get their proof. Just... not in any way that's good for me.”

Gibbs shook his head. “You don't have to do this.”

“I think I do. But maybe I'm overreacting. Maybe it won't be as bad as I think it will.”

“You should listen to your gut.”

“I already did. That's why I came here.”

* * *

Gibbs looked up from his boat, frowning. He wouldn't say that he hadn't expected a visitor, or that he hadn't figured on this one in particular, but he'd still thought the visit was a day or more out. Malloy should be home with his wife, the one who had stayed in MTAC for two days straight looking for any sign of his existence. He shouldn't be here with a grumpy former marine, even if they were supposedly friends.

“Something I can do for you, Malloy?”

“Is putting me out of my misery an option?” Malloy asked, and Gibbs set down his tool, gut kicking into overdrive. “Because it might come to that. Hell, you might not even think you're doing me a favor.”

“What are you talking about? If this is about that assignment, if you went through with—”

“I think I did the unthinkable,” Malloy said, going to the workbench and leaning over it. “I... I don't know. I'm not... sure. We were talking, alone. It was late. I kept refilling my glass because I was nervous. She... kissed me. That I think I remember, but I... I don't remember what happened after that. I must have—I couldn't have—but I think I did.”

“Damn it, Malloy.”

“I am not asking you to forgive me. I don't forgive myself.”

“Damn right you don't. You knew a hell of a lot better.”

“Gibbs, she lured me out of the hotel not ten minutes before the bomb went off,” Malloy said. “I told them that, and it's proof enough for me. She's the leak. But... they say it isn't enough. They want more than that. They want me to continue seeing her. The thought of it turns my stomach. I can't pretend with her. I can't pretend with Ellie. I'm not a good liar. I never have been. Ellie knows something's wrong. She's calling it PTSD now, a side effect of my brush with death, but it's not. It's guilt. Not even survivor's guilt.”

Gibbs shook his head. This was a mess, and a part of him didn't want any part of cleaning it up. Another part of him would be damned if he let some idiot at the NSA screw up his people. “You have to come clean to Bishop.”

Malloy laughed. “You know, that's what they want me to do? They didn't say I had to, just heavily implied that if I told Ellie, it would make their target believe I was on her side, that it would convince her to open up to me about the treason. And it's not like I can keep it from Ellie for long. She already knows something's wrong, and even if she didn't, she would soon enough. She always does even if it's classified and that's why I haven't told her about it. She confronted me about going out of town before I told her about it. I... I should never have agreed to this, but I said yes before I even knew what they wanted.”

“You are a patriot,” Gibbs said. “Not the smartest one, but no one can say you haven't been loyal to your agency.”

“Just not to my wife,” Malloy muttered, putting his head in his hands. “I don't know what to do. I can't do what the NSA wants. I can't let her get away with what she's done. And no matter what happens, I've lost Ellie. This was never supposed to happen.”

“But it did. Now you have to fix it.”

Malloy nodded. “I think I... I need to... I have to go.”

“Stop.” Gibbs shook his head. “You're not going anywhere. You might not have had anything to drink this time, but you're not fit to get behind the wheel. You sleep it off on my couch. We'll deal with the rest later.”

Malloy blinked. “You... aren't supposed to help me. I don't deserve it.”

“You screwed up. No denying that. That doesn't make you wrong about catching her. It has to be done. We're gonna make that happen.”

Still looking sick, Malloy barely managed a nod. “Okay.”


End file.
